Meanwhile (Annabeth's Story)
by Jay'sGirl123
Summary: 'Monsters attack. I get away. Monsters attack. I get away. It continued for a daily basis. It CONTINUES for a daily basis. My name is Annabeth Chase; I am six years old.' You know Annabeth from Percy's view, but what happens when you take a look behind the scenes? Little Annabeth runs away from home on the morning of her seventh birthday and meets Thalia and Luke. PAUSED!
1. Prologue

**Alright! I've been dying to type this up. I L*O*V*E Annabeth's story so I decided to give it a whirl. Hope this sounds okay!**

**...**

Okay, so maybe I overreacted.

Being born a demigod? Getting attacked by monsters that aren't even supposed to exist? Having no effective weapon against them? A family that thought everything was my fault? Me running away?

Yeah, I kind of overreacted.

But, in a crazy way, overreacting was probably the best thing that ever happened to me.

...

It all started on the day I arrived on my dad's doorstep. I arrived in a beautiful golden basket with a note from my mother, whoever she may be. I thought I was awaiting a wonderful new home with a nice family and a father that loves me very much, but when my father opened the door and saw my face, I saw shame in his watery blue eyes, not pride.

The day I came into his home was the day the monsters came. At first, very little. One or two at the most, all trying to get to me. But as the days turned to weeks and the weeks turned to months and the months stretched twelve at a time into years, as I came to believe they were not just some nighttime monsters that hide under my bed or in my closet, more and more came each day, until there were either hordes of little ones or one of the big ones.

But even though I was very young in the times they arrived, I'd always be able to outsmart them by hiding in small places as they'd crash through the house. I was strangely intelligent for a toddler of my age.

And it just kept getting better. Monsters attacked. I'd get away. Monsters attacked. I'd get away. It'd continued for a daily basis. It _continues _for a daily basis. My name is Annabeth Chase. I am six years old.

I live in San Francisco. Not many people really know I exist, even with half the world's existing monsters staggering after me wherever I go. It was kind of upsetting, knowing my father and stepmother only never allowed me to attend school because of how 'dangerous' I was. According to them, I was stupid, useless, and couldn't do a thing right. **(A/N: Love that song! ^_^)**

I'm like a slave in this household. I'm Cinderella before the ball; a pitiful little girl who's stepmother is a witch and who's father couldn't care less for her. He doesn't even remember my birthday; I've never gotten any presents. It's a privilege just to eat at his table and sleep on a cot in the back room afterwards.

Sometimes I think I'd do better in foster homes or an orphanage, but I always endure.

Tomorrow is my seventh birthday. My dad won't remember and my stepmother won't care. I would do something special for myself, but if I made a cake or even a cupcake, my parents would get mad at me for wasting batter, and if I bought something for me with the little pocket money I have, my parents would get mad at me still for wasting space with useless toys. So I'll blow out a flame on my birthday candle hidden under my cot, just as I've done every year, and make a wish.

Every year my wish is the same; 'I want a better life with friends and family who actually care about me.' Or, in other words, 'Get me out of here.'

And, as my birthday dawn draws near, I have a feeling my wish is about to come true.

...

**Yay! Hope that turned out okay. I'm going to follow the book as close as I possibly can, but if you catch any mistakes, please review or PM me. Thanks!**

**/Jay'sGirl123**


	2. A Typical Day at the Chase's

**(Lyrics do not belong to me. I read the guidelines, and I see no rule against using _quoted_ lyrics. I am QUOTING it and not COPYWRITING it.) Anyway, sorry for taking so long on updating this. Hope it's good! Enjoy!**

**...**

_**"I'm bulletproof, nothing to lose,**_

_**fire away, fire away,**_

_**Ricochet, you take your aim,**_

_**fire away, fire away,**_

_**Shoot me down, but I won't fall,**_

_**I am titanium**_

_**Shoot me down, but I won't fall,**_

_**I am titanium"**_

_**'Titanium' by David Guetta**_

As I scrubbed the sticky crumbs off of the last plate in the kitchen sink, I recited to myself again and again the full national anthem; the only political song I knew by heart. _Oh, say can you see..._

As I sang, I thought to myself about good things I could look forward to, such as presents for my birthday, or a cake. Friends invited over for a small party. My dad enveloping me into a warm hug and whispering 'happy birthday'. My mother would be there, too, just how I imagined her; Blonde with gray eyes like me. Tall, and very pretty.

These were things I could look forward to, but will never get.

I turned off the faucet and dried my hands on a prickly red dishcloth. When I was littler, I always dreamt of my mother coming to get me and taking me away from this household; somewhere where everybody knew me and loved me. But something like that never happened, no matter how long I waited.

"_Annabeth_!" An angry voice shouted from the family room. "_Get in here, now_!"

My stepmother. That witch with the twin babies - Bobby and Matthew - I'm not ever allowed to go near. That wretched woman my father married after my mother left him. She treats me like a household slave, yelling at me whenever a monster comes, but never allowing me to leave. The woman who won't allow me to attend school or celebrate my birthday properly. The woman who hates me even more deeply than my father. I was almost tempted to ignore her.

"_Annabeth_!" She screamed more insistently. "_Now_!"

I stifled a groan of protest and forced myself to walk obediently through the dining room door and into the family room. "Yes, stepmother?"

My stepmother scowled at me like the bad tempered woman she was. Even if she was quite beautiful with her Asian complexion and red highlighted hair, with her innocent brown eyes and full lipped smile that she hardly ever wore around me, she was still as evil as an evil stepmother could ever be.

"Can you tell me," She spoke in a dangerously calm tone. "what _this_ is all about?"

I blinked and looked in the direction she was pointing. In the relaxing chair that usually the cat was always lounging in was a small mud colored desert turtle. It was calmly sitting upon the cat hair covered throw blanket, as if it'd lived here it's whole life, and I smiled at it's ease.

"I found it on the side of the road." I admitted innocently. "It would gotten hit by a car if I didn't save it."

"Then," She leaned in close to my face, almond eyes fiery with bottled up rage. "you should have left it to be hit."

_'That's horrible!'_ I wanted to yell into her demonic face. _'All living creatures should be treated like equals!'_ But, then again, if she really believed that, I wouldn't be a treated the way I am. My stepmother isn't known for treating others like equals; at least I don't think she is.

"Get rid of it." She ordered.

I sighed inwardly and, my angry gray eyes not leaving hers in an infuriated glare, scooped the turtle into my short arms. I started towards the front door in the corner of the family room, carefully holding the turtle in a position in which we were both comfortable - I think.

But I wasn't going to give up so easily. No one - especially not that woman - was going to push me around like this. What I needed was a plan.

And I had one.

...

"What can I call you? Can I call you Kimberly? Or are you a boy turtle? Then I'd call you Benjamin. Like Benjamin Franklin!"

I was really excited about keeping the desert turtle in my room. I'd keep him around for company and feed him strawberries, and he'd be my best friend! I couldn't wait to have him around for my birthday; he'd be the only one besides me celebrating.

The question is, though, how would I hide him from my parents? My stepmother thought I'd put him outside and came back in through the back door alone, and my father didn't know anything about the turtle anyway. How would I keep Benji around?

"You'll figure that out later," I told myself while stroking Benji's rough, bumpy shell. "For now, have fun!"

I picked up a strawberry that I'd snuck from my stepmother's private snack fridge and held it up above Benji's head. "Reach, Benji!" I giggled enthusiastically. "Reach!"

Benji's head tilted upwards, his jaw dangling open as if expecting the strawberry to drop into his mouth for him. Instead, I teasingly raised it higher. "Come on, Benji, reach!"

Benji decided, after a few more seconds, that I probably wasn't going to give it to him for free and that he'd have to take it himself. His neck extended farther from his shell and reached for the strawberry with - what looked like - everything he had. I lowered the strawberry a bit so he could catch it, and he began to dig into it greedily, getting the red juice all over his little turtle face.

I laughed softly. "Yeah, we'll be really good friends. We've got a lot in common." I picked up another one of the tiny red fruits and bit into it, savoring its flavor. "For one, we're both lost in a house where we don't belong... but on a brighter side, we both like strawberries!"

Benji agreed by chomping down his strawberry noisily, while I sat lost in thought. _Lost in a house where I don't belong..._

So where did I belong? Where did a dyslexic, over-intelligent six year old girl belong when not with her father?

I didn't know, but I felt, someday, I would find out.

...

As I settled down that night, I thought still on where I would belong. A foster home? An orphanage? The streets?

_A camp?_ Something at the back of my mind whispered.

I shook my head. A camp? Nah. I couldn't fit in at a camp. I'm hardly able to go outdoors.

I snuggled under my blankets, feeling more peaceful than I had in a long time with Benji as my new friend. I would wake up tomorrow and do housework all day long. I'd endure my stepmother's punishments and my father's ignorance. It would be like any other day, full of sadness and misery, but at least, when I came back into my sad little closet of a room, I wouldn't be alone.

...

I woke to what felt like a twig rubbing against my leg.

My gray eyes snapped open and I sat up in bed. My first instinct was to check the time. _One o' clock?_ I never woke up this early! I would never hear the end of it from my stepmother if she figured out I was roaming the house too early. I needed to get back to sleep.

That thought changed as I looked down. I choked back a scream.

I was covered in a stringy substance that had to be webs. They strung around my arms like a straightjacket and stuck to my bed as if to hold me down. They were sticky and stretchy, but when I tried to lift my arms, they held fast. I was trapped. But the worst thing about all this treachery was all the little black insects crawling all over me. I took a closer look only to see they weren't insects. They were... They were...

"Spiders!" I shrieked. "Mommy! Daddy! Help me! Spiders!"

That wasn't a twig I had felt. It was a spider leg. At my outburst they hissed and stood up on their hind legs, which made me even more terrified. They would bite me! they always did! They would bite me and entangle me in even more spider webs!

I hated spiders. I was born with arachnophobia, a severe fear of the creepy little creatures, but I'd never known why they hated me as much as I hated them. Whenever I'd encountered spiders before, they loved to bite and scratch me with their teeth and claws, wrap my clothes in webby cocoons, and scatter dead insects all over my bedroom, but they'd never gone this far. This was the final insult.

I screamed with everything I had. Where on earth was my father? Didn't he care at least the littlest bit? I was surrounded by spiders now, and they were crawling all over me, biting me...

Suddenly, my father burst into the room, bathrobes flying and baseball bat in hand. My stepmother appeared behind with a frying pan, looking dangerous. I immediately became overwhelmed with relief and began to cry. "Help me, daddy!"

My parents looked around, their faces showing blank confusion. My father then gave me a sour look. "What is it, girl? What's wrong?"

What? Didn't daddy see them? Why was he so mad? I looked down and realized why.

There were no more webs. No spiders. My skin showed no bites or scratches. My room looked exactly as it was when I'd gone to bed. All evidence was gone. But how did that happen? It was impossible!

"Annabeth," My stepmother growled, lowering her frying pan and giving my a venomous glare. "What. Were. You. Screaming. About?"

"Spiders." I told them, my voice small. "Everywhere. Big, hairy spiders. They bit me, daddy. They did!"

"Lying pest." My stepmother spat. "Trying to get attention, the spoiled brat."

"But they were here!" I protested in a much louder voice. "They were! Don't you believe me, daddy? They were here!"

My father curled his lip and angrily threw the baseball bat down. "Go back to sleep, Annabeth. If I hear another peep out of you, you'll spend the whole day scrubbing and no meals!"

"That'll teach you to behave." Her stepmother added, looking satisfied.

I lowered my head as they left my room, angrily muttering under their breaths. The hallway light clicked off, and I was alone in my room except for Benji in his shell hidden under my cot.

I buried my face in my hands and cried. _Why was I even born to this horrible man? This isn't fair!__ What if they woke up the next morning and I was gone? What would they think of me then? _

I stopped and held my breath for a minute. _What if... What if they woke up the next morning and I was gone?_

The answer came to me then. I didn't belong here. If I stayed here, I'd just be dead weight, cleaning and cooking like a slave for the rest of my childhood. I'd never go to school or get a degree. My future would be a sad, payless one. But if I left...

**...**

**Was it short? Sorry. I hope it wasn't too short. Anyway, I apologize for not updating in a while. I had to go visit some relatives and they didn't let me get on the computer. Oh well! Hope you liked it!**

**/Jay'sGirl123**


	3. Escape: Part 1

**(Again, I am not copywriting, I am quoting) Enjoy!**

**...**

_**"Who cares if you disagree?**_

_**You are not me**_

_**Who made you king of anything?**_

_**So you dare tell me who to be**_

_**Who died and made you king of anything?"**_

_**'King of Anything' by Sara Bareilles**_

I hopped out of my little cot and pulled on my coat. I didn't have any other clothes besides those stained sweats and loose T-shirt, and I never wanted to see those again, so I left on my scratchy pajamas. They were warmer anyway.

I didn't want to wear those slippers. They were worn and holey and would let the cold in, so I decided on the combat boots my father never wore. They would last longer and get me farther than any slippers would.

The only problem was Benji. What would happen to him? I only found him yesterday, but it was the longest time I'd ever kept an animal. I couldn't just leave him here.

_The animal center. _My mind whispered. _The place where Mommy takes the cats to get haircuts._

Of course! I would leave Benji there. It was better than dragging him with me on a fugitive life guaranteed to be filled with monsters and pain.

I hefted him into my arms, him still in his shell, and looked down onto my little turtle. I would miss him. He was my only friend.

I eased the door open and tiptoed from my room into the hallway. My parents had - thankfully - retired to their room and were probably bickering on what to do with me if not snoring. Horrible people, ignoring their own daughter, even if I was one's stepdaughter.

I quietly entered the bathroom. I needed to tie my hair back. After all, I couldn't go out fighting monsters with my hair getting in my face all the time. That was one of my pet peeves.

I quickly parted my hair in two and twisted them into braids. I tied them off, cleaned my face with a wet wipe and examined myself in the mirror. I looked like an ordinary six year old, not some monster attracting freak who hadn't even started school. I hoped I'd stay that way.

I lifted Benji again and left the bathroom. My father's combat boots were where they always were; left in a heap by the front door, unused since they were bought two years ago. He won't even miss them.

I slipped them on and tied them in a tight knot. Surprisingly, they fit enough not to slip off my feet while running. This would help a lot.

I was about to leave when I stopped and to make sure I had everything. I made a mental list in my head; I had maneuverable clothing, I was clean, and I had a purpose. But there was something else I needed. What was I missing?

I wracked my brain for the answer. I would be on the run. I would be searching for a place I can live and belong. I would be fighting monsters...

I will be fighting monsters! That's it! I need a weapon.

The first thing that came to mind was Mommy's hairdryer, for it was quite lethal in her hands, but I pushed it away choking back laughter. How on earth would a hairdryer help me against _monsters_?

Another thought was my stepbrothers' toy truck. It was about a foot long and half a foot tall and made of wood, and almost broke my leg when Bobby threw it at me once. But I'd have to throw it, and throwing meant losing. I couldn't afford to lose anything, _especially_ a weapon.

Then it came to me. Daddy's hammers! He had a million of them! I could take just one. It would be very useful!

I set Benji down on the cat-hair infested relaxing chair and snuck down the hall towards daddy's workroom. He was obsessed in model airplanes and other World War II stuff that I never really understood, and enjoyed spending most of his time in his workroom fussing over his army men and other models I'm not allowed to touch.

I eased open his workroom door and peered inside.

Moonlight spilled in through a window on the wall, illuminating the room in an eerie blue light. The jumble of papers on my father's desk rested in a scattered fashion, as if they'd been searched through a thousand times. His laptop computer sat, still open, next to his old-fashioned box computer. Both of their keyboards seemed to be worn, as if my father was fading the keys by typing too much.

The army men he usually obsessed over were arranged to form two complicated battle stances, one side red and the other side blue, and they both cast strange shadows in the moonlight, as if they'd been specially placed in a way the opposite side couldn't see their shadows wherever the moon was. They looked as if they'd been arranged and rearranged over and over, like my father had OCD or something, but I was impressed to see my father had great battle strategy.

Unconsciously, I studied the outline of the attack the army men seemed to preparing. The blues seemed to be aiming for a surprise surround attack. I observed the red's attack line. They seemed to be doing a complicated split up, running in different directions in probable hope to find different entrances in the blue's camp. I became quite interested and began to trace paths with my eyes that the army men could take to surprise one another, working it out in my head to see who would win. It was fascinating on how detailed both armies seemed to be strategizing.

I wanted to move them around and put more thought into it, but I shook my head. _Just get the hammer._

The hammers were in the corner of the room near the desk. They were hanging on the wall from the hilts, their metal heads swinging upside down. There were nine hammers in all, hanging from biggest to smallest in not-so-perfect organization. I bit my lip and considered which one to take. There was the big one, which would help a lot, but I didn't know if I could carry it; it looked too heavy. There was a small one, which would be easier to carry around, but it wouldn't even bruise a monster wherever it hit. I looked at the middle one, hoping for something a bit in between, but that one had a large crack in the hilt and looked rusty. I finally just chose the next biggest. I held it in both hands, weighing it. It was okay, though I still wished the middle one was usable.

I left Daddy's workroom, hammer in tow. Than sudden realization swept over me. How was I going to carry this _and_ Benji? They were both heavy and I needed both of my hands to carry each. Should I take my step-brothers' wagon? No, I wasn't that cruel. They loved that thing. Should I take Daddy's dolly? He never used it. But, then again, that thing was designed to carry brick shaped stuff, and a hammer and a turtle, even together, weren't brick shaped.

_One at a time._ My mind whispered. _Leave the hammer somewhere you'll remember and go back for it._

I sighed. I guess I could do that. I could leave the hammer out somewhere down the street and go back for it as soon as I dropped Benji off at the animal center.

I crossed the family room, practically dragging the hammer as I walked. I set the hammer down at the wall, reaching up to unlatch the window.

With a massive grunt, I lifted the hammer onto the sill, and, muscles sore, pushed the hammer out the window. Without another sound, I hopped up on the sill myself and sat with my legs dangling outside. I pushed off the sill and fell about a foot onto the lawn below.

The grass was cold, but it was soft. The air was cold, but it was clean. And the stars... I don't remember the last time I had seen them without the foggy, scratched glass of the window in my room in the way. The wind felt _so_ good after the stuffy hotness inside. My scratchy pajamas kept me warm in the frigid morning air, but not so warm that the coolness I felt didn't seep in. For the first time in a very long time, I felt... _alive_.

I was finally free.

...

**How was it? Ooh, I loved writing this chapter! I felt like a ninja! **

**My excuse for not updating in a while; okay, if any of you have read my Warriors story, 'A Medicine Cat's Christmas', I have been _way_ too obsessed with writing it and editing it that I haven't gotten around to this one for a bit.**

**Also, I have been very busy in my outside computer life so I can never get around to it period.**

**Alrighty! Enough of my rattling. I hope you liked it and I shall try to update sooner next time. Bye!**

**-Over and out,**

**/Jay'sGirl123**


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